


Making out like a Bandit

by Ki_ru



Series: Bandit. Bandit never changes. Or does he? [1]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bandit is still a sweetheart, Boys Kissing, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Groping, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Making Love, Pre-Canon, Romance, Slow Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 12:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14618313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ki_ru/pseuds/Ki_ru
Summary: Jäger wants to come out to his uncle and enlists Bandit's help in pretending they're in a relationship. What could go wrong?Set roughly in the early 2000s, pre-Rainbow.





	Making out like a Bandit

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Making out like a Bandit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16264937) by [SayaO7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayaO7/pseuds/SayaO7)



“So, we met through your brother, that’s probably easiest since it’s also _true_. Was it on the job? Did we stumble into each other at some point, did we go to the same party and he introduced us?” Marius’ brain is quick-firing possible scenarios, providing both reasonable as well as inane ones as he overtakes an idiot who really should be in the right lane yet refuses to switch over, blocking the middle lane completely. As soon as he’s past him, he accelerates the car and his thoughts simultaneously.

“Dude, relax, you’re driving like a madman”, says the person sprawling next to him, the seat moved all the way back so he can stretch out his long jeans-clad legs. “You’re putting way too much thought into this. Don’t you want to come off as natural?”

“Most of all, I want to come off as reasonable”, he replies quietly but lays off the gas a little nonetheless. He’s been useless for the past few days, drowning in a sea of worries and what-ifs and increasingly ridiculous scenarios, switching so rapidly from eerie calm to extreme tension over something that shouldn’t mean this much to him yet _does_. He barely ate, considered cancelling the entire thing several times but knew he had to go through with it. Had to.

“I can do reasonable”, the guy agrees easily and flashes him an open grin. He’s an odd one, that much is clear, there was definitely some hesitation when he was suggested to Marius even if he’s not adept at pinpointing what exactly it is that feels slightly off about the other young man. One thing helps a little with his frayed nerves at least: he cleaned up nicely. When they initially met to discuss a few details, the guy called Dominic showed up with an impressive stubble, well-worn clothes, bed hair and a sour attitude where now he’s dressed in clean trousers and a freshly-ironed, subtly-patterned shirt. He’s shaved, looks like he even styled his hair and applied an undeniably attractive cologne that put Marius on edge immediately as soon as he caught a whiff of it.

To be very honest, he’s stunning. He looks like someone whom Marius would notice in a club, on the street, in the supermarket, instantly obsess about and possibly dream of but never interact with for fear of blunt rejection purely because he’s so far out of Marius’ league. His jaw could cut glass, his hazelnut eyes are piercing and his broad chest looks perfect to rest one’s head on, his toned body and his height are just an added bonus. He moves with a mesmerising confidence that Marius both admires and deeply envies. There’s only one problem with the entire situation: He’s straight.

“Okay, so, let’s decide on maybe the first date and first impressions, how about -”

“I love this song”, Dominic interrupts him mid-sentence, doesn’t pretend to be apologetic about turning up the volume of the radio and even starts singing along a little. “What’s your uncle like? He means a lot to you, right?”

Marius has to raise his voice to fight against the music now. “He does, yeah. He raised me after both my parents died when I was still a kid.”

“Oh shit.” The volume is lowered considerably again, the effect almost humorous, quelling Marius’ rising irritation right away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. He did a fantastic job regardless. He’s one of the greatest people I know, dedicated to his work, honest and smart, I have nothing but respect for him.”

“Then it makes sense – I was wondering why you’d care what your uncle thinks of you being gay.”

Marius just answers with a strained smile.

 

It’s one of the worst ideas he’s ever heard, not only because he despises lying but also because lying to his _family_ is something at which he’s always been terrible. His friends could pretend to be ignorant about the fate of the freshly baked cookies even with crumbs around their mouths whereas he basically confessed to wanting to eat one _before_ he even _does_. Additionally, it means he’d have to get another person involved for which he’s entirely unprepared, so at first, he discards the suggestion despite the fact it worked out reasonably well for the guy telling him about it.

And reasonably well in this case means that the person pretending to be his friend’s boyfriend so he didn’t have to come out to his parents all alone actually caught the knife thrown at the poor sap in mid-air, shielded him bodily from further harm and offered to stay the night to ensure he’s fine. The two of them are still dating, which Marius supposes is wonderful for them yet he can’t get over the haunted look in his friend’s eyes as he recounts how he was basically expelled from his own family.

Still, he refuses to entertain the notion for a year during which he very carefully chooses which places to frequent just in case someone who might snitch to his own family runs into him making out with yet another mediocre-looking dude who’s indubitably more interested in Jäger’s _lower_ head than anything he has to say. At some point, he gets sick of it and decides to make the jump, to at least let his uncle know why he wanted to own a skirt even if he never put it on in public as a child, why he insisted on watching each and every cowboy film on TV as well as most football matches (even though he hates football) and why his first attempts at dating girls went so horribly wrong.

He’s probably a coward. Dragging someone else into this extremely personal matter just so they can offer moral support is nothing but selfish, he knows this, and yet it’s reassuring to know he won’t be alone. There’s absolutely no chance his uncle is going to react like his friend’s family in any way but despite this, having someone there who will possibly share the weight of disappointment and disgust so it doesn’t weigh him down as heavily is too tempting to dismiss the prospect. He asks around in his circle of friends, some of which immediately offer to do it themselves but Marius is close enough with his uncle that most of them have met him and even introduced their wives, so they’re out of the question.

Eventually, Cedrick speaks up.

Cedrick is someone who’s usually drifting at the edge of Marius’ vision, a friend of a friend of a friend, popular and hard-working though he has a reputation for being a little strange, sometimes even callous. He’s loud due to genuine confidence in the fact that people want to hear what he has to say, Marius is loud to mask the fact that he assumes no one cares – the end result is similar, however, and so they don’t interact very often whenever they’re stationed together. When Cedrick approaches him one day and mentions having heard about his troubles, Marius steels himself in expectancy of a vaguely hurtful joke though ends up pleasantly surprised when all he receives is encouragement and sympathy. It turns out that both of them assumed they disliked each other, so after an awkward conversation to clear everything up, Cedrick mentions his twin brother who’s visiting the Ruhr area at the moment and that he’s probably spontaneous enough to go through with Marius’ plan.

Dominic really does share a lot of similarities with his brother but is actually more burly, visually more intimidating and, unfortunately, gorgeous. There’s something about his demeanour that sets him apart from Cedrick, ensures they won’t be confused – Marius would be hard pressed to identify what exactly it is but he notices an uncomfortable attraction with which he’s too familiar. Handsome straight guys are the source of equally many broken hearts as desperate jerk off sessions, they’re the bane of Marius’ existence and the one mistake he keeps making. He doesn’t learn and as much as he hates lying to others, he’s a master at lying to himself.

 

The entire car ride, which takes longer than the usual hour due to traffic, he’s careful to keep his eyes on the road instead of the impressive figure next to him but even so, he’s not impervious to their ongoing conversation. Dominic seems unwilling to dwell on Marius’ game plan, instead jumps from topic to topic, sometimes based on a car plate he spots or a news story being discussed on the radio, though more often than not entirely at random. He appreciates the distraction and finds his voluntary companion to be an interesting and interested talker though when they arrive, he wishes they’d chatted more about what kind of plot they’re going to act out as soon as they enter the house. He feels entirely unprepared.

“I don’t think I can do this”, he says, his stomach in knots upon him laying eyes on the home in which he grew up, the four walls that are heavy with memories. It used to be a safe haven, a place of freedom and comfort in which he never felt _wrong_. He does now, sharply and suddenly, all the possible ramifications of his impending confession flooding him at once. His uncle always told him he didn’t need other children if he’s got _him_ and what used to sound lovely to his ears now creates a lump in his throat.

“Can I call you sweetcheeks?” The unexpected question startles a short laugh out of him that shakes him out of his downward spiral of unproductive thoughts and he smiles at Dominic, grateful for the comment. “What’s the worst that could happen, hm?”

“He disowns, insults and assaults me”, Marius shoots back matter-of-factly.

“What’s the best case scenario?”

For this, he needs to think a moment. “He accepts me as I am and even supports me.”

“And what’s most likely going to happen? Probably somewhere in the middle, right?” His uncle loves him and if previous altercations are anything to go by, he’s not a confrontational person at all. Reluctantly, he nods which turns out to be a mistake because now Dominic is beaming at him with the force of a thousand suns. “There you go. It’ll be fine. I’ll hold your hand during, if you like, and you can cry on me until my shirt’s soaked afterwards, but right now, you got shit to do. You got this. Let’s go.”

Marius finally understands why Cedrick roped his brother into this instead of volunteering himself – Dominic is proving to be an absolute sweetheart.

 

“It’s good to see you, come in, come in. Who’s this?”, his uncle pats his arm as he slips past him into the familiar house and then shakes Dominic’s hand. “Hello, I’m Helmut.”

“Dominic Brunsmeier, a pleasure. You can call me Dom, everyone does”, Marius’ companion responds politely and shuts the door behind him. They’ve come this far so Marius decides to takes the next logical step.

“Dinner is almost ready, you can sit down in the kitchen.” The fact that he doesn’t question Dom’s presence and instead accepts him into his home without protest simply because it was Marius who brought him along stings a little – he’s so unsuspecting.

“Actually, there’s something I’d like to talk about beforehand. Can we…?” His uncle seems surprised but ushers them to the living room nonetheless and this is where the reality of what’s happening finally catches up with Marius who is eternally grateful that he at least made it to the sofa before his legs give in. He can feel his heart pounding in his temples and while it does help, it doesn’t do much to have Dom by his side until he sits down right next to him, their thighs touching, his hand brushing over Marius’, thumb running over his knuckles for a brief moment. It centres him in a way, allows him a brief respite to take a deep breath and prepare himself mentally once more, just like he’s done every day during the previous week.

This is him. His uncle deserves to know about this because it’s a large part of him, his future and past, and leaving him in the dark just doesn’t seem fair. This is who he is and he can’t, _won’t_ change anything about it – and this realisation helps. He’s content with himself. And even if his uncle might not be, it’s ultimately less important than his own opinion of himself.

He hesitantly leads up to it, speaks deliberately and has rehearsed most of it before, and while he probably only voices a couple of sentences, it feels like he’s talking for an eternity which is reassuring because his uncle hates interrupting people – so as long as he’s talking, he’s fine. He forces himself to stop, closes his mouth, resists the urge to squirm in his seat, to inspect the room to find something to comment on, switch the topic. Dom next to him is silent, a few of his fingers stroking Marius’ leg out of view in support. He hasn’t felt this vulnerable in a while, it’s as if he willingly presented a weak spot to someone with a weapon and trust is the only thing keeping him from flinching.

His uncle seems pensive. Not disappointed – not yet –, not angry or confused but Marius expects the quiet thinking to tip over into any of those soon. Instead, he looks at Dom. “Am I right in assuming you’re together?” Dom, the utter angel, simply nods and agrees. “Then you can consider yourself a very lucky man.”

His face lights up once more. “I do.”

Marius just _stares_. Not only did his uncle just use the informal “you”, reserved for family and friends, he also – what sort of reaction is that? “Wait -”

“How long have you wanted to let me know? Don’t tell me you worried yourself sick over this, your cousin’s gay.”

Now his eyes are almost bulging out of their sockets. “ _What?_ ”

“From your dad’s side. Markus. Did you never – well, I guess you didn’t. I just hope I’ve made enough food. You really should’ve told me you’d bring a guest. You’re planning on staying, right, Dom? I’d like to get to know you better.”

“I’d be delighted”, Dom replies and sounds nothing but genuine.

And Marius just looks back and forth between the two, trying to process what just happened.

 

Dinner is entirely surreal and Marius feels like a complete and utter fool the entire time. The first half is spent on him answering his uncle’s questions about when he knew, what his experiences have been like so far and he’s forced to disclose all of it with Dom watching him with a small smirk and _dear God_ Dom is probably judging him so hard internally because he made such a big deal out of it and it turned out to be absolutely _nothing_ to worry about. A few times, he has to interrupt his uncle before he starts with the _really_ embarrassing stories (though Dom subtly tries to guide the conversation back to them, as if Marius wouldn’t notice). It’s domestic and lovely and decidedly strange.

The rest of it is spent on Dom and this is where the whole thing might crumble. Marius completely missed the point where he could sensibly tell his uncle what’s up and is now stuck in this pretend relationship that threatens to blow up any second but the longer they talk, the more apparent it becomes that Dom knows exactly what he’s doing. It turns out he’s using all the topics they’ve discussed on the way here to drop natural-seeming remarks that imply how well he knows Marius, and though he disagrees with some of the “relationship” details that Marius brings up, it only serves to strengthen the front they’re putting up because they end up bickering like a real couple.

“Oh, you have a twin?”, his uncle asks curiously at some point and Dom nods.

“We both joined the BGS at the same time, yeah. Sometimes we dress the same to see whether Marius will end up holding the wrong person’s hand but so far, he’s behaved very well.” He winks at Marius, making him blush and his uncle laugh.

“You’re not _that_ similar, actually”, he replies begrudgingly and adds, before he can help himself: “You’re more handsome.”

“I’m beginning to understand why you suddenly developed such a passion for sports when you got that new teacher all the girls were fawning over”, his uncle muses but Marius can barely hear him due to Dom’s smile eclipsing pretty much everything around him. This was a terrible mistake. All of this was a mistake.

After they’ve eaten – and though it was nothing special, it tasted of _home_ regardless – Marius shoos his uncle away, insisting that they’ll take care of the dishes since he never bothered to buy a dishwasher. As soon as he’s out of earshot, he murmurs: “I’m _so_ sorry. I didn’t know he’d take it this well and now you have to -”

“Don’t be ridiculous, this is hysterical. I’m having the time of my life, sweetcheeks”, comes the easy response and Dom actually does sound like he’s enjoying himself immensely.

“Call me that again and I’ll slap you with the wet towel.”

“Oh, is that what you’re into?” He chuckles at Marius’ exasperated expression that partly stems from the fact that Dom is playing his role a little too well. Weirdly enough, he seamlessly fits into his life, he’s witty, charming and sincere, his humour aligning perfectly with his and even his uncle’s and right now, he looks completely at ease, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and him almost elbow deep in dishwater. He’s gone from someone whom Marius would admire from afar to someone about whom he’d daydream – like waking up next to him, cuddling while watching TV. Only he has the bonus of being really, _really_ hot. His lower arms, despite being halfway obscured with foam, look more than strong enough to hold him down and - “Really though, I’m happy for you. And I like your uncle.”

And his uncle likes _him_ , which is a whole new problem. Because he’ll have to find an excuse as for why Dom isn’t in his life anymore the next time he visits and that means more lies on top of the ones that are currently stacking up. At least his biggest worry is gone now and he won’t have to hide such a fundamental part of himself anymore, which got rid of the worst knots in his stomach – but his uncle finding out Marius expected him to react so negatively that he made up a _boyfriend_ remains a fear of his still.

“Hey. Cheer up.” He turns his head to answer only to find Dom’s face right in front of his and then he _kisses_ him, nothing spectacular, just a short peck on the lips before he returns to his task but a kiss nonetheless. Habit kicks in and he involuntarily chases him, earns another blinding smile and a second kiss, yet this time neither of them withdraw and it’s an awkward angle, Dom’s arm is in the way, they both seem unsure about committing and it’s _perfect_ , it’s quiet and unexpected and shy but Dom smells heavenly, his composed and supportive presence is doing wonders to Marius’ soul and all he wants to do is to snog him senseless, until the water is cold, until the sun goes down, until his uncle checks on them. He takes note of his smooth cheeks, the long eyelashes gently curving, the specks of gold in his honeyed irises; they tilt their heads and eyelids flutter and someone clears his throat behind them.

Marius jolts, barely stops himself from jumping away from Dom, reminding himself he’s _supposed_ to be doing this, whirls around and feels warmth creep into his face at the amused expression on his uncle’s face. “Do you boys want to stay for the game? The BVB is going to play Schalke into the ground – hopefully.”

Okay, no, this has already gone too far and with him almost making out with Dom he’s straying uncomfortably far into dangerous territory. Besides, he can’t stand football, which is the perfect excuse for them leaving as soon as possible. He’s adamant on not ruining things with Dom so his budding friendship with Cedrick doesn’t get tarnished, not to mention the fact that he’s probably provided the twins with enough ammunition for blackmail to last them a lifetime. “Thank you, but I think we’ll -”

“Sure.” His mouth snaps shut and his head whips around to Dom who doesn’t even have the decency to return his gaze. “Another Dortmund fan, hm? I can get behind that as long as it’s against Schalke, we have a common enemy.”

A broad grin is Dom’s reward for such a betrayal. “That’s what I like to hear. Marius, if you don’t want to watch it, you can do me another favour. The model helicopter I bought a few months ago is broken again and I’ve had trouble fixing it. It’s in the garage.”

He barely resists the urge to _glare_ at the utterly unapologetic man next to him. “No, it’s okay, I’ll join you. I’d rather make sure you don’t tell him any embarrassing things about me.”

His uncle dramatically puts on a mock hurt expression. “What, _me_? I’d never, cheese weasel.”

And while Dom snickers into the dishes, Marius’ face gets even hotter.

 

Dom’s hand is in the nape of his neck.

Where before he already didn’t care about the game, now he’s absolutely unable to follow it even if he wanted to – his eyes stay open and fixed on the screen in front of them yet his mind is blissfully vacant, occupied only with the tactile sensation of gentle fingertips on his skin in one of his most sensitive places. He’s obsessing about not moving too much lest the hand disappears, controls his breathing very carefully until he almost becomes light-headed and is forced to take deeper breaths, and simultaneously fights the urge to stretch towards it, curl against it and even rub his cheek -

A thumb runs over his hairline, brushing over the short hairs and creating a tingling feeling that runs down his spine. Dom isn’t even aware of doing it, he’s happily chatting with his uncle about _something_ while occasionally stopping when the ball approaches a goal. The last topic Marius remembers was former East Berlin and how the outskirts still don’t have proper sewage pipes though now one of them mentions something being delicious so he’s pretty sure they’ve moved on to something else by now. He clenches his teeth when ticklish touches turn into a light massage, digits digging into tense muscles and this is definitely the wrong moment to moan though he so desperately wants to.

It’s the second half of the game already, they took a small break at halftime and Marius almost laughed when his uncle offered Dom coffee instead of beer – his slightly formal attire and general politeness must have him thinking that Dom is nothing but a respectable citizen of higher standing than his nephew yet all Marius recalls is the scruffy, bleary-eyed dude Cedrick introduced to him. _Then_ it registered that he’d be left alone with his fake boyfriend for the duration it takes to produce said coffee and he quickly fled to the bathroom; he didn’t want to be tempted once again, he wants to get this whole affair over with as cleanly as possible so he can go home, curl up in his bed and die of mortification.

When he returned, his plan was to sit down a reasonable distance away from Dom, ask his uncle a bit about the rest of their family, gossip about some of his colleagues as well as brag about his latest achievements but it got blown to smithereens straightaway because Dom pulled him against the long line of his body and the arm that’s been draped on the backrest folded so the hand could slide over Marius’ shoulder to the back of his neck and that’s how he got here, purring internally at the affectionate gesture that’s probably meant to be casual yet instead does something funny to Marius’ belly. The other two _must_ notice that he’s being uncharacteristically quiet though he feels his uncle chalks it up to him allowing the two to get to know each other better, which is why he’s holding back. And Dom… Dom must think him an idiot who’s trying to not make an even bigger idiot out of himself.

Hopefully, neither of them suspect Marius is having a small mental breakdown. After all the stress of last week, he’s exhausted and content now, glad it’s over and even gladder his coming out went nothing short of fantastic though this means he’s giddy with relief, not to mention charged with new energy – and coupled with the fact that he’s so close to Dom he might as well be sitting in his lap, that he smells _divine_ and… dear God now he’s stroking over that spot right under his ear and he involuntarily presses against the warm palm, tilts his head and freezes when the movements stop. There’s a short pause, Dom hesitates in the middle of his story before picking up again, and then fingers push into his short hair, dig into the base of his skull and drag over his scalp and the feeling is almost _orgasmic_.

His eyes threaten to slide shut so he bites the inside of his cheek, hard, trying not to telegraph all the lovely things Dom’s ministrations are doing to him, only then Dortmund scores the first goal of the otherwise mediocre match. This alone wouldn’t mean anything to him, he doesn’t have a preferred team, but _Dom_ cares and so his hand glides lower in distraction, wraps around the back of Marius’ neck and _squeezes_ , the touch decidedly possessive and dominant and this is when Marius notices all his blood flowing south. While the goal is being shown in slow motion from all possible angles, he excuses himself with a dry throat, gets up and walks into the kitchen without once looking back at Dom. He doesn’t need to make this any worse than it already is.

He fills a glass with tap water, downs it in one go and then exasperatedly addresses his own crotch under his breath: “Don’t do this to me. Not now. I’ll take care of you later, but just… _don’t_.” He’s hit with the sudden image of Dom using his lips instead of his hand and his half-hard dick gives a feeble, hopeful twitch. Barely, he resists the urge to pour another glass over his own head, forces himself to think of something, _anything_ else and returns to the couch.

A minute later, Dom is gently playing with his earlobe. And that – that just _isn’t_ -

He flees again.

 

It’s a vicious cycle. At first, he notices the motor stuttering, then, while he troubleshoots, he stumbles over one of the rotor blades being crooked, and the deeper he delves into the model, the more imperfections he spots, the more he wants to take it apart completely, fix it, improve it, modify it. His uncle noticed his knack for all kinds of machinery very early on and had no qualms about buying him expensive toys, knowing he’d take good care of them and use them to gather knowledge – this trend is still ongoing, sometimes his uncle visits flea markets and purposefully acquires broken toys just so Marius can piece them back together, restore them during one of his visits to keep his hands busy while they chat.

He never lost his taste for it and so he’s blissfully unaware of the world around him as he sits on the dirty floor of the garage, various components strewn around him and his old toolbox open next to him. Whenever he focuses on identifying the workings behind certain mechanisms and how pieces interlock, nothing else matters to him, therefore he’s rudely dragged back into the real world when he hears voices approaching. He left half an hour before the game was over, too charged and distracted to pay heed to anything else, took a short time to cool down and shake off the feeling that Dom knows _exactly_ what he’s doing and is merely enjoying the attention.

As soon as they step into the garage, Dom ignores him in favour of the bike and enthusiastically expresses his adoration for anything motorcycle, granting Marius a longer grace period during which he can avoid talking to either of them. That is, until he hears the following: “Yeah, I actually have a Harley.”

His eyes snap up to the unfortunately still extremely attractive man. “You do?”, he asks, incredulous, because how come he never mentioned it before – he knows how much of a vehicle enthusiast Marius is, must’ve heard from Cedrick or gathered from their conversations… But that’s probably it, he might _not_ have realised. This is definitely something that would’ve come up in a real relationship though, no doubt, it’s absolutely impossible he wouldn’t know. Is this what finally makes his throne of lies crumble right below his anxious ass?

“Oh”, says Dom and his expression tells him that he, too, is now aware of their gaffe. “Oh, I didn’t tell you? I did end up buying it from that dude with the…” He makes a vague gesture in front of his chest and Marius nods quickly, as if he knew what he was talking about. “It’s still in mint condition but I’ve barely tested it out yet.”

“Harleys have always been his favourites”, his uncle comments and judging by how cheery he looks, he doesn’t seem to have noticed they almost slipped up thanks to Dom smoothly covering for him. “Since he’s now obsessed with helis, I’m positive it’s because they’re equally as loud.”

Seems like the disaster is averted. The two of them share a secret glance and a half-hidden smile that has Marius’ heart pumping faster but they’re back in safe territory now. While he continues tinkering with the model chopper of which he’s now certain that it’s been purchased for his benefit only, Dom showcases his in-depth knowledge that even impresses Marius’ uncle – so that naturally, Marius decides to show off a little as well and explains in detail what exactly he’s doing to the poor toy and why. It feels slightly childish to boast in response but he has the sudden urge to prove himself somehow. However, Dom listens with genuine interest, making Marius feel sheepish about his pettiness, a notion that only increases the longer his uncle silently observes them, visibly amused.

And then Marius yawns. It’s a full-body yawn, complete with stretching his torso and tensing his legs, it’s eye-watering, satisfying and makes his jaw pop which leads him to a worrying question. “What time is it anyway?”

His uncle checks his wristwatch. “Just past midnight.” _What_. They’ve been here entirely too long, he promised Dom the whole thing wouldn’t take more than a few hours, definitely not the entire evening and even into the night – he needs to drive them back, too, drop him off at Cedrick’s and getting home will take even longer - “Honestly, isn’t it better if you both sleep here? It’s quite a drive at this hour.”

Panic settles firmly in Marius’ gut and makes itself comfortable: it’s there to stay. Because _there is no way this is happening_. “Thanks, but I don’t think -” He yawns once more and no, he’s probably not helping his case with this.

“I don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow morning”, Dom cuts in sweetly, all smiles, “and I don’t recall you do. Also, with how you’ve been driving lately, I’d rather not take any chances.”

The smug bastard. Marius glares at him and desperately tries to come up with a different excuse, _any_ sensible reason why they shouldn’t stay yet his own conscience is working against him, whispering scenarios into his ears that are as scorchingly hot as they are improbable and he’s done this. He’s had guys “forget” the time the last bus for the night leaves, he’s spent the night next to ones who were completely ignorant and all of them were straight and he allowed some of them to take advantage of his desperation and though he keeps telling himself he’s better than this and deserves more, he’s deadly curious to see how many pieces of clothing Dom will remove to sleep, whether he’s going to continue his teasing and, if so, how far he’ll go. Even if all he gets is a half-hearted hand job after blowing him for an hour it’ll be worth it because after all those electrifying touches earlier he’s _dying_ to get his hands on Dom.

And so, he agrees. Reluctantly and with the suspicion he’s ultimately going to regret it, but he agrees.

 

“Is this your old room?”, Dom asks as soon as Marius has closed the door behind him and lowers his voice at an indication to be quieter: “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You _are_ a giant nerd.”

This is a detail Marius has conveniently forgotten. Even if there was a way to explain the extremely detailed rendition of the solar system painted on the wall (of which he’s still proud, thank you very much, and Pluto is his personal favourite), his extensive collection of famous cars, motorcycles and space ships recreated with Lego blocks is harder to justify. “Look”, he begins, intending to defend himself until he notices how tired he is of making excuses for the things he likes just because someone he admires might think them odd. He’s done enough of that. “Let’s just – let’s just sleep, alright?”

Dom looks at the queen-size bed and shrugs. “Sure. I just thought we could -” Marius puts his finger to his lips again. “What is it, is your uncle’s room right next to yours?” He nods and Dom’s eyebrows lift considerably. “Well, I hope that doesn’t get too inconvenient.” He starts unbuttoning his shirt and suddenly it’s a conscious effort to hold his gaze instead of letting it drop to the toned chest he’s slowly revealing. Marius’ throat goes dry because where he was worrying about his coolness factor just a minute ago, _now_ he’s worrying about his soon-to-manifest boner being visible through his jeans.

“What do you mean?”, he wants to know absent-mindedly.

“I thought that I’m being pretty obvious, to be honest”, comes the enigmatic reply that remains a mystery up to the point where Dom has removed his shirt, exposing his pronounced muscles, and now opens his trousers and _ah_.

Alright.

So he really is one of those guys.

Marius loses it. If he’d asked politely, if he’d waited until they were in bed and had turned off the light so they can both pretend it never happened the next day, if he’d made a suggestion, sure, it would’ve been fine – well, not _fine_ , not really, Marius would still beat himself up over it, but he would’ve complied without protest because Dom has been exceedingly pleasant all day, not to mention drool worthy. And no, it’s worse than that, he’s been actually nice. Seriously likeable, Marius _liked_ him and was considering trying to stay in contact despite the fact that he made a total idiot out of himself and that’s saying something. Usually he tries to distance himself from people who’s seen him at his worst.

Yeah. He’s not doing this.

“No”, he hisses quietly and some of his ire must bleed into his intonation since Dom halts and looks up at him, alarmed, “ _no_. I’ll tell you what we’re going to do: we’re going to go to sleep, get up in the morning and drive home and that is _it_. I’m sick of straight guys like you acting like you’re _entitled_ to a blow job just because you’ve helped a gay dude out or because you happen to be super hot. It doesn’t mean I want to fuck you and it _certainly_ doesn’t mean you’re doing _me_ a favour. You want to sleep here so badly? Sure. But I swear, if you touch me or try anything else, you’re sleeping on the floor.”

Dom seems thunderstruck by his outburst which doesn’t surprise Marius – he doesn’t expect he gets called out on his bullshit a lot, probably is used to getting his way. Filled with righteous fury, he moves around him, pulls the thin blanket off his bed that his uncle keeps there so the sheets don’t collect dust, switches the bedside lamp on and the overhead one off, sheds his jeans in preparation for sleep and enters the adjacent bathroom to brush his teeth. Calling it a bathroom is an exaggeration, it’s hardly more than a toilet as well as a washbasin embedded in a shelf yet as a forever-horny teenager or an adolescent who sometimes had “sleepovers” with his “guy friends”, it was a godsend and facilitated cleaning up immensely. Grimly determined not to let Dom’s incredulity get to him, he angrily attacks his mouth with the coarse bristles.

There’s movement behind him, he can see it in the mirror, and when Dom appears in the door frame, leans against it and crosses his arms, he’s donned his open shirt again and his jeans are buttoned up. He looks… soft, is probably a good word to describe him, sympathetic yet not apologetic for some reason, his expression gentle and his eyes attentive where they meet Marius’ in the mirror. “I’m not straight”, he says, careful not to be too loud. Marius’ brows draw together. He knows Dom isn’t gay, Cedrick mentioned an ex-girlfriend and - “I’m bi.”

Marius’ hand stills.

“When my parents caught wind of it, they threw me out”, he adds and it’s like a punch to the gut.

“Shit”, he replies around a mouth full of toothpaste and _means_ it. Dom sounds sincere. It changes _everything_ , puts everything he did today in a completely new light and Marius hasn’t felt this terrible in a long, long while. To buy himself some time, he spits, rinses his mouth and wipes it with one of the fresh towels his uncle gave them before he dares facing Dom once more. “What about Cedrick?”

A shrug, then a bitter smile. “He doesn’t care. He’s just lucky he never got caught.”

“I’m sorry. Really, I’m -”

“You had nothing to do with it.”

“No, for what I said. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” He trails off because both of them know he _did_ mean it yet was missing vital pieces of information.

“It’s fine. You obviously didn’t know.” He’s about to object – it’s not a good enough excuse for assuming so much – but Dom asks: “Does that happen to you often? People taking advantage of you?”

Marius nods hesitantly. “I let them. It’s my fault, too.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch. We can tell your uncle I snore or steal the blanket or something.”

This – this is an earnest suggestion, no, even more: he’s not leaving the decision to Marius who basically just admitted to sometimes not being able to decide things in his own favour, Dom is resolving this himself to avoid creating any discomfort. Together with his other revelations, it’s too much. He accompanied Marius without even knowing him, offered him help that was denied to himself when he faced a similar situation, he played along voluntarily, saved his ass, merely assumed there was a mutual attraction based on Marius’ reactions to him (with which he was spot-on) and _now_ he’s giving up the comfort of a proper bed and a warm body next to him purely so Marius doesn’t get the chance to hurt himself.

Dom readily wraps his arms around Marius’ shoulders when he sinks against him, pulls him close and tightens the embrace as Marius takes a deep breath. For a moment, it’s just that: a comforting hug. Dom’s solid body and his warmth calm him down and he hopes it goes both ways because if _someone_ deserves to feel cosy, it’s definitely Dom. “Thank you”, he tells him, murmurs it over his shoulder and as a response, a hand buries itself in his hair and is about to massage him back into a catatonic state of bliss when he adds: “I don’t want you to sleep on the sofa, though.”

There’s a pause, then Dom withdraws slightly to look at him directly and the question is on the tip of his tongue, Marius can _sense_ it, he’ll want to know whether he’s sure, whether he’s serious, whether he’s thought about it, and instead of allowing it to fill the space between them with doubt, he decides to lick it off. He locks their lips, slides his over Dom’s and is met with instant enthusiasm, making him stumble backwards until he hits the shelf. They kiss with all the desperation of lovers filled with longing after external circumstances have kept them apart for entirely too long, Dom steals his breath and his balance away, and he’s delighted to find out that, additionally to all the other things Dom is ridiculously skilled at, he’s also a fantastic kisser.

When they break apart with swollen lips and half-lidded eyes, Marius’ head is swimming. “So”, Dom addresses him with a small smirk, “you think I’m super hot, hm?”

It takes him a second to process the remark before he huffs a laugh. “ _That’s_ what you took away from my completely uncalled-for rage speech?”

“Just so you know”, Dom mumbles between kisses, “I think you’re gorgeous”, a lick over his upper lip, “and smart”, a short suck on his lower one, “and disgustingly sweet regardless.” They’re both chuckling now, threatening to be too loud once more, and when Dom moans into his mouth, he shushes him not for the first time, making a reckless glint appear in the dark brown eyes. “You know, that’s actually turning me on. A lot.”

“What, that we have to be quiet?” Dom nods and this concession abruptly reminds Marius of the fact that his own arousal has started to pool in his lower half a while ago, a direct response to the making out and just Dom in general. He’s a feast for every single one of Marius’ senses, experiencing him is a dangerous, dizzying affair of which he won’t be able to get enough. “I want you too, but I don’t think I have anything -”

“I do.” He grins, embarrassed, when Marius just _looks_ at him. “Hey, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re _really_ cute. A man can hope.”

It’s too much to handle. Knowing that Dom was interested in him even before today robs him of all coherent speech and thought, so he resorts to kisses that turn filthy _fast_. The whole thing is a dream come true – how did it even happen that he suddenly has this compassionate man in his arms, playing with his tongue and slowly driving him insane? Dom is showing remarkable restraint, seems happy with making out like a fiend for now, so it falls to Marius to take them a step further which he gladly does. He pulls Dom’s lower half against his own and grinds into it amidst their fervent snogging, rubbing the bulge in his boxer briefs on the one visible in Dom’s jeans and both of them gasp. The friction is delicious, too intense to give up on it, therefore he continues with it, holds on to Dom’s narrow hips and strains against them.

With a last gentle bite into Marius’ lower lip, Dom interrupts their sensual kissing spree and switches to attacking Marius’ neck, immediately homing in on that spot below his ear that weakens his knees and makes him shiver in delight. He’s now chewing on his own lip to try and hold back the noises aching to be set free, brows drawn together in concentration yet Dom is merciless. He nibbles at the nape of his neck, exactly where his hand did so much damage earlier and Marius decides he needs a distraction. He pushes the shirt off of Dom’s shoulders, lets it fall into a heap by their feet and starts exploring his chest with his hands. Hard muscles work under the smooth skin, his abs are tangible bumps and ridges under Marius’ digits and his broad back is perfect to dig his fingernails into. When Dom starts sucking a bruise onto his skin, making him squirm and stretch towards him, he retaliates by brushing his thumbs over Dom’s nipples. He doesn’t expect the instant response, isn’t prepared for Dom bucking his hips and groaning before he can help himself.

Interesting. Marius lightly pinches one between his fingers, causing Dom to produce a strangled sound that goes straight to Marius’ erection. “Don’t”, Dom whispers with urgency in his voice, “my nipples are wired directly to my cock, and if you don’t want me to come in my pants -”

“You’re remorselessly exploiting my weak spot too”, Marius objects with a grin, “try to keep quiet.” He leans down a little and catches one of the erect buds between his lips, touches his tongue to it just as Dom slaps a hand over his own mouth. His reactions are extremely satisfying, the way his muscles tense whenever Marius laps at him is an acceptable pay-off for how he suffered during the football match. While Dom whimpers into his palm, Marius begins undoing his jeans, wrestles them down his hips and over his hard thighs to run his fingertips teasingly over the perfectly outlined dick that immediately jumps at his touch. Without interrupting his ministrations even as Dom steps out of his trousers, he peeks down: it looks to be just the right size, large but not obscenely big, and his mouth waters at the prospect of being able to do what he wants with it.

He takes pity on Dom who by now is shooting him imploring looks that he can’t support with words, unwilling to use his voice for fear of being too loud, and plants a few kisses on his well-sculpted chest instead of continuing the teasing. As soon as he stops, a hand wanders to his crotch, grinds its heel against his head and has _him_ buck into it, so he returns the favour. For a while, they simply stand there, leaning into each other and groping each other’s dicks through their underwear, feeling out the sensitive head, cupping the testicles, massaging the shaft, both of them breathing heavy and lost in the welcome stimulation. They’re taking their time and Marius appreciates it, it’s not just a blur of passion that’s over entirely too soon, it’s not something out of their control, it’s slow and _deliberate_. They both want this but they both want to enjoy it fully, too.

“What do you want to do?”, he murmurs and wonders what it is _he’d_ like to do. Pretty much anything from jerking each other off to proper sex sounds enticing so he lets Dom decide.

“Can I top?” Even before he gets the chance to agree, Dom adds: “I’d love to have you inside me but I’d definitely end up being too loud.”

Marius snorts. “Really? That’s your excuse?”

“Trust me, I’m not joking. I’d be louder than a fucking cat in heat.”

_Oh_. His amusement gives way to an almost carnal _want_ upon imagining it, picturing Dom writhing and moaning under him, unable to hold back, moving against him and _dear God_. Dom would let him do it, too, he’s convinced, would allow him to take him apart, reduce him to a mewling mess despite the fact he could do so to Marius just as well. But Dom doesn’t have anything to prove. “That’s really hot”, he tells Dom who seems pleased with this answer, “but I don’t want to keep my uncle up.”

“Thought so. Want me to finger or tongue you open? Which do you prefer?” His mind blanks for a second, making him stare at Dom in open disbelief because _what_. Just the thought of it is - “Have you not – has no one ever done that to you?” He shakes his head mutely but instead of reacting with outrage, Dom seems to sense his hesitation and merely nods. “Alright. Maybe next time, you’ll probably moan like a whore if it’s the first time.”

Marius’ thoughts are still attempting to catch up with everything spilling from Dom’s mouth and failing horribly. _Next time_ , he said, the two words the only ones clearly resonating in his head. Speechless, he only watches as Dom picks up his jeans again, rummages around in his wallet until he pulls out a packet of lube and a condom, then turns to him questioningly. “We can move to the bed but this room is facing away from your uncle’s, so I suggest we stay here.”

“You’re like a wet dream come true”, he blurts out without meaning to but refuses to regret being so blunt when Dom’s devastating smile returns, wide and flattered. He sets the two crinkling objects aside and snuggles up to him once more like an oversized puppy, slotting their lips together and initiating another toe-curling make out session during which Marius voluntarily discards his t-shirt so that Dom can get a handful of _his_ muscles as well. He might not be nearly as buff as the beefcake in front of him but he’s nothing to scoff at, either. While he’s busy sucking on Dom’s tongue, nimble fingers slip under the waistband of his underwear and pull it down, wrap around his erection as soon as it bobs free and give it a few shallow tugs that Marius answers with a content hum. His cock is leaking already, almost dripping with how much he wants this.

Curiosity gets the better of him and he breaks free from Dom’s dirty kisses to undress him as well and watch while doing so. His entire body is flawless, golden hairs covering his shapely legs, barely any scars, skin smooth and taut over his muscles, his sizeable cock darker than the rest of him and heavy in Marius’ hand, a solid weight, piping hot and silky. He’s by far the most handsome guy Marius has ever laid his hands on, not to mention he’s positively lovely on top. Impatiently, he shoos Dom’s hand away from his own dick, steps a little closer and grabs both of their shafts together, pressing them against each other which results in a wonderful sensation made even better when Dom’s twitches. They’re similar in size though Marius’ hair is darker, both uncircumcised, the foreskin already peeled back, both tips glistening. Experimentally, he rolls his hips forwards a little, sliding along Dom and making them both gasp.

“Keep doing that, but stay slow”, he whispers and reaches around Marius to fetch the lube. He complies, moves a tad, then gingerly massages their heads. It’s so much better than just doing any of this on his own, the fact alone that he can smell Dom, rest his forehead on his shoulder and examine how magnificent their lengths look together increases the lust coursing through his body manifold. He listens to every hitch in Dom’s breath, every controlled exhale, every sharp inhale as he continues to tease them both, answering them with gasps of his own. Arms move around him and a hand gropes his backside, digging into the flesh and he understands it’s a wordless question. He nods and feels a second hand, a slick finger rubbing over his entrance and it’s electrifying.

He realises with sudden clarify that they’re really doing this, that Dom is going to fuck him in his old room that was the centre of most of his childhood, that he’ll have to _keep quiet during all of it_. A tiny moan escapes him as soon as the finger breaches him cautiously and he starts sucking on Dom’s shoulder in an attempt to silence himself. The familiar feeling rushes through him, fills him with anticipation and makes him forget about everything around them for a while, concentrating merely on the knuckles pushing in and out of him. It’s always a little odd but he knows the pay-off is going to be staggering, so he makes a conscious effort to relax, accept the digit into himself.

When a second finger brushes over his hole, full of promise, he involuntarily thrusts forwards, is abruptly reminded of the fact that he’s got a penis as well, and hears Dom suck in air sharply through his teeth. He repeats the motion, now slower yet more deliberately, and when he lifts his head, Dom returns his mischievous gaze almost helplessly. “Please. I don’t want to – _Marius_!” Grinning, he grinds against Dom’s rock hard shaft once more and simultaneously flicks one of his nipples but he stops grinning almost immediately when the second finger is _shoved_ inside him all the way, stretching him and giving him that unparalleled feeling of being full that he’s come to crave now and then. And even though it’s nothing short of fantastic, Dom instantly looks guilty. “Are you – did I hurt you?”

“Fuck no”, he replies as emphatically as possible when all they allow themselves to do is whisper, “keep going, it’s _great_.” As if to prove his point, he pushes back against the slippery fingers before rolling his hips into his fist again, building up a steady rhythm that’s heavenly and seems to be doing it for Dom as well, judging by his throbbing erection that strains against Marius’. He’s being worked open carefully now and thoroughly glad for Dom’s other arm holding him upright as fiery pleasure mixes with the comfortable feeling in his belly that manifested when they embraced earlier and has yet to vanish.

The third finger does him in. If he continued the languid slide of dick on dick, he wouldn’t last long and thus he takes Dom’s face in both hands and kisses him sloppily, notices his lips curving into a smile as he prepares Marius so thoroughly it’s almost ridiculous but who is he to complain – the feeling of clever fingers moving inside of him is addicting already, fuelling his need for release and making his eyelids flutter in bliss. When he breaks the kiss, both their mouths are wet with spit yet Dom doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He’s breathing hard as well now, fixing Marius with a smouldering gaze and caressing his arse with his free hand. “Ready?”

“Almost.” Blindly, he reaches behind him and grabs the condom, grins when Dom interprets this as a prompt to brush over his prostate, causing waves of warmth to course through him. He does his best to ignore them even as they’re getting stronger, rips open the wrapper with slightly shaking fingers and rolls it over Dom’s cock – he has to take a break halfway through because the pleasure is blotting out all feeling in his limbs but he counters it by threatening to attack one of Dom’s nipples again, after which the distractions cease. At least enough for him to finish his task.

“Turn around.” His voice is soft, beckoning, a stark contrast to the uncomfortable _empty_ feeling after his fingers have withdrawn and still, Marius has never been more turned on than right now. He’s simultaneously astonished and not at all surprised to find that he trusts Dom with every fibre of his being. Obligingly, he does as he’s told, props himself up on the shelf and catches Dom’s eye in the large mirror that only now fully registers – if they’re going to do it like this, it means - “I’ll go slow. I want to enjoy this.” They’re still looking at each other while Dom lines up his dick, starts pushing in and they can pinpoint the exact moment his head slides inside on each of their faces, both slipping slightly into elation and disbelief at once. He’s large, even after three fingers, indescribably hot and pushes all the air out of Marius’ lungs with every centimetre _more_ that enters him.

They’re becoming one and he can _watch_ it, examine his own expression as well as Dom’s, and it’s embarrassing in a way though not shameful. He’s not ashamed of what they’re doing, just self-conscious about doing it this purposefully, about letting too much show. Dom is looking at him intently, searching for every swallowed moan, every tensing of muscles, every interrupted in- or exhale and it’s strangely arousing. Marius feels the urge to close his eyes, reduce some of the intensity of it yet decides against it; he only allows himself to look away once Dom has bottomed out, is catching his breath, puts his hands on Marius’ hips and kisses the top of his spine in a gesture so loving it makes a smile appear on Marius’ lips.

Usually, it takes him a while to get accustomed to the curious feeling of being penetrated but right now, relaxing into it is second nature somehow, easy and effortless, probably because he wants this so much his teeth hurt. He pushes against Dom in a signal for him to move which he obeys without protest, withdrawing a little and pushing back in, repeating the motion a few times before he switches to slow, long thrusts that barely deserve the name – it’s a languorous slide but after no more than thirty seconds, Marius is _trembling_. There’s something he didn’t know or rather forgot, he hasn’t had sex standing up a lot, often favours a bed: in this position, Dom rubs over his sweet spot _every time_. It’s not enough to make him come, at least not in less than half an hour, but it’s earth-shattering regardless. Especially because he needs to bite back every sound trying to claw its way out of his throat.

It doesn’t help that Dom is going so slow – if anything, it makes it _worse_ , amplifies the blinding pleasure immensely. His knuckles are turning white where he’s desperately holding on to the edge of the wooden shelf trying not to let his legs give in, he’s clenching his jaw and sucking air in every time Dom pushes back inside. He stops, suddenly, and Marius is about to yell at him when he notices he’s on the verge of hyperventilating. That’d be a first, he’s not passed out during sex before but he’s also not had a hunk like this slowly fuck every shred of common sense out of him. Dom is doing his best to calm him down, melts against his beck, nuzzles his shoulder, strokes his chest reassuringly. “Alright?” Marius nods weakly and leans back into him, thankful for the solid, warm weight of the body behind him. “Look at me. I want to see what I do to you.”

He glances up and feels a little better when he sees Dom’s brows furrowed in concentration – it’s visibly costing him a lot of willpower to keep up this gruelling tempo. “You’re _right there_ ”, he tries to explain huskily, “don’t change anything.”

“The angle?”, Dom clarifies and Marius just nods again, unable to respond as another spark blackens his vision for a split second. “You’re so tight and so sensitive. I can feel you clenching around me. You feel _amazing_.” His lips latch onto the nape of Marius’ neck again, his weakspot, making him wobble unsteadily and, together with the stimulation deep inside him, it’s too much, too intense, he wants to curl in on himself but a hand on his chin keeps him upright and is that face staring back at him from the mirror really _him_? He looks so lost and yet so ecstatic, as if he never wants to be found again.

Too much and not enough at the same time. Because as extreme as the pleasure is, as all-encompassing, it’s too stretched out; a full-body sensation that lulls him into a state of powerless joy yet denies him all hope for release. His legs are twitching from the fluctuating feeling, he’s keenly aware of Dom’s thighs pushing against his, of the tongue behind his ear, the one hand holding on to his hip bone and the other caressing his jaw, just as sharply as he feels the hot shaft entering him over and over again, creating a tide that never stops and never rises high enough. Dom is watching him, unchanged, even as he sucks temporary markings into his skin, he drinks in all of Marius’ gasps and squirms and his eyes are so full of _affection_ that it causes Marius’ heart to pump twice as fast.

Just when he’s started to accept his fate, when he made peace with forever floating in limbo, with never reaching his goal, fingers encircle his erection and begin stroking it – in the same torturous tempo as the deep thrusts. They glide over his head, gather the copious amounts of precum there and use them to ease the slide, clouding Marius’ mind even further, causing his eyes to roll back into his skull when they sync up with the deep-seated stimulation. He can’t imagine how disciplined Dom must be, how composed he has to be to keep this up, to stay mostly mute except for his laboured breathing and the occasional gasp – he only knows that he doesn’t share his resolve.

“Dom”, he begs ardently and is proud of being able to keep his voice low, “Dom, _please_. Go faster.” A simple shake of the head crushes all hope for a swift release, it’s accompanied by a smirk and a twinkle in Dom’s eyes but even then it’s obvious he’s holding himself back with effort. There are teeth on Marius’ neck now and he’s already trembling, his insides hungrily gripping Dom’s dick but even then he refuses to try and increase the speed, refrains from thrusting back because while it’s nothing but torture, it’s sweet, divine, stunning. He closes his eyes and focuses on the teasing touches, the hand stroking him, on the incredible feeling of Dom’s head rubbing right over his prostate, unfailingly every time he pushes in. Reality ceases to make sense to him and it helps, he can feel his climax approaching but as if Dom could _sense_ it, he slows down even further, despite how his own cock is throbbing deep inside Marius – and he’s never been able to feel it this intensely, the shaft inside him pulsing with need. “I need to come”, he whines and barely stops himself from bucking into that excruciatingly light grip, “Dom, let me come.”

“Open your eyes. Look at me.” Something in Dom’s voice has changed, it’s thick now but also sounds like he made a decision, so Marius wastes no time in obeying, meets his gaze in the mirror again and that’s when the grip tightens. A low moan escapes him to which Dom reacts by holding his mouth shut, the gesture dominant yet meant helpfully: they both know Marius would regret it if he lost control now. He’s getting serious, his hand is speeding up, pulling Marius ever closer, and _still_ he’s observing him raptly, his chin on Marius’ shoulder. There’s a twist to his wrist, his fingers tightening around the sensitive tip, digits brushing over that certain spot on the underside of the head and it’s almost – he’s almost there – he just needs -

Dom bites into his earlobe and he’s gone, shoved over the edge, tumbling down in free fall. Right as he passes the point of no return, Marius fills his lungs with air, arches his back dramatically, is only connected to Dom where his hand is on his mouth and their hips flush, and then he comes. It’s violent, the contractions in his lower body so extreme it’s almost painful, his legs are hurting and his arms about to give in and yet everything is eclipsed by the elating feeling of release; sweet relief is rushing through his veins as he grinds against Dom, seeking to maximise his pleasure while he’s being milked, mercilessly stroked through the entirety of his orgasm. He’s moaning into Dom’s hand – quietly but moaning nonetheless – helpless, shivering, clamping down on the cock impaling him that’s twitching _hard_ , hitting all the right spots and it’s never been this fierce, he’s never felt a climax this sharp and satisfying.

Even as he’s coming down, there’s the occasional pleasurable twitch and as soon as Dom removes his hand, he greedily gulps in air and inspects the damage. He managed to shoot his sperm even halfway up the mirror, which is impressive, exhaustion is settling in his bones now and he can’t really see straight but apart from that he feels _brilliant_. Instead of sobering up, there’s an unfamiliar warmth inside that probably stems from the fact that Dom is wrapped around him, unchanged, and looking at him like he hung the stars. “That was absolutely beautiful”, he whispers and Marius replies with a short, embarrassed laugh.

“You’ve not come yet?” Dom shakes his head again. “Then do. I want to feel it.” They exchange a smile that’s so pure, so full of adoration and mutual affection that it refuses to leave Marius’ lips even as Dom grabs his hipbones and pulls him back onto his cock. He’s faster now, careful not to let the sound of skin on skin become too loud but thrusts deep regardless, the feeling not even uncomfortable. Marius basks in it, relishing the knowledge that he can now help with Dom’s pleasure, focus entirely on him; he meets his thrusts, adapts to his movements, contracts his muscles around him and squeezes breathless gasps out of him. He can finally give something back to Dom.

When he comes, Marius makes sure to allow him as deep as possible, endeavours to prolong his orgasm with small motions and doesn’t complain when fingernails bite into his skin. Dom looks blissful, his head thrown back and his throat exposed, his features gone slack in pleasure and his erection pulsing with every spurt. It’s everything, it’s hot and exquisite and lovely and now Marius understands what he meant because he, too, looks absolutely _beautiful_.

He rests his forehead on Marius’ shoulder for a bit as they’re both catching their breath, then he gingerly withdraws, extracts himself from Marius’ body, leaves him slightly cold without the comforting warmth at his back. “You ruined the mirror”, he says quietly while removing and tying off the condom.

“Wouldn’t be the first time”, Marius shrugs, making Dom snort. They busy themselves with cleaning up, him taking care of the mirror and the washbasin and the shelf (he really came everywhere, it seems), and Dom collecting and even _folding_ their clothes, putting them on a chair in Marius’ room. “You know, we could’ve shut the door.”

“Ah, but where would be the fun in that?” Chuckling, they both crawl under the sheets once they’re done, intertwine their limbs and bathe in each other’s body heat, gentle hands stroking through short hair and over soft skin, lips touching now and then, noses brushing.

A thought occurs to Marius. “We might not even have to lie to my uncle tomorrow, you know.” As soon as the words have left his mouth, he wants to slap himself because none of this makes them boyfriends, neither of them have raised the topic before and he shouldn’t _assume_ so much. He wants it, though, he realises there’s a longing in his chest to make Dom a part of his life, to keep him. There’s something there, it’s undeniable, they’re compatible and they like each other.

Dom hesitates but as it turns out for a different reason than unwillingness: “I’ve got to go back to Berlin tomorrow afternoon. I’m not – I want to. But it’d be long distance and I’m shit with that.”

That’s right, he’s only here temporarily. Marius knows this but happened to forget. “Me too”, he murmurs and it’s the sad truth. He gets lonely, especially on weekdays when there’s no one with whom to spend the evening, he understands if Dom feels the same way. Keeping him from potentially finding someone else with whom he could be happier is unnecessarily cruel. Right now though, he doesn’t have the energy to be bitter about it, and besides, Dom is still _here_ , right beside him and naked and eye candy. “Can I wake you up at night for another round?”

He gives a startled laugh, obviously not having expected the question. “Sure. But the lube’s gone, so we’d have to settle for hand jobs.”

“Why not blow jobs?”

“I can blow you until you pass out, if you like, but I can’t come from it. Never have.”

Marius’ interest is piqued. “Not even if I play with your nipples?”

“We’d wake up your uncle. Believe me, I’d moan like a bitch but I wouldn’t finish.”

“Sounds hot.”

Dom laughs once more and pulls him on top of himself, kisses him lovingly and Marius curses everything and everyone for the fact that Cedrick is somehow stationed here but Dom isn’t. They just cuddle for a while, slowly drifting away until Marius climbs off again, turns around and shuts off the bedside lamp only to feel Dom scoot up to him and spoon him. It’s as if he can read Marius’ mind since this is his favourite position, cosy and safe and he relaxes into it. He’s half asleep when Dom mumbles: “If you give me your number, we can at least phone now and then. Have freaky phone sex. Or… or just talk.”

For some reason, the second option sounds more intimate than the first, more of a concession. He pictures it, a lazy Saturday, him in his pyjamas and Dom’s voice by his ear, memories surrounding them, the feeling of a solid body at his back. “Yeah”, he agrees with a smile so open that he’s glad Dom can’t see it. “Yeah, let’s do that. I’d like that.” There’s a kiss pressed against the back of his neck and he still feels it when he falls asleep.


End file.
